It Can't be That Bad
by Realisation
Summary: D/G: Trying to forget and get away from Harry, Ginny winds up at a college in France, where she meets a very unwelcome Draco. However, inner rebellion and Draco himself may change her opinion of him... Language + adult themes. [complete] R&R!
1. In Which Draco Cute American are Both I...

A/N: The cure for writer's block is **obviously** to write something completely unrelated to your current project! Review? Please? :^^: This is the first D/G I've tried to write, which is probably evident in the terrible construction.  
~clockwisevenus

~^~^~^~

    Ginny was thrilled--at the very pinnacle of happiness. It was impossible, she had decided, to be any happier than she was, right then, at that _very moment_. Why? Simple.

    Because there was, more often than not, no Harry Potter in France.

    There especially was no Harry Potter in L'Université de Échec. Of course, men _could_ attend, but Harry Potter was most certainly _not_ the type of man who would up and decide to go to a bloody school for women. He simply didn't think that way.

    There would be no Harry Potter to screw over her entire college career--no Harry Potter to tell her how much he loved her and then abruptly break up with her on their anniversary.

    God, she hated him.

    Yum. Even the steps up to the front doors were lovely. She adored it already.

    That is, until she was finally inside and she realized that she had no idea where to go.

    "Excuse me," she said, tapping the shoulder of a tallish looking fellow who had entered before her. "I'm looking for the Advanced Charms classroom, and I don't quite know where to find it."

    He turned around, smiling sympathetically at her. "Is it your first day?" he asked, surprising her with his sharp, American accent. "I was completely lost on my first day as well." He held out his hand. "I'm Will."

    She shook his hand politely and nodded. "I'm Ginny, but I really must find this class--I don't mean to be rude, of course--"

    "Oh, it's quite all right," he assured her. "I'll walk you to class; it's a bit confusing if you don't know the way."

    Ginny shook her head furiously. "Oh, no, I don't want to trouble you--if you could just tell me where it is I'm sure I could find it."

    "Actually," he said, "in addition to being Will, I'm Professor Jacobs, the Advanced Charms teacher. I'm heading there anyway."

    Ginny blinked. "Oh," she said intelligently. "All right, then." She turned to look at him as he directed her up a staircase. "You're a bit young for a college professor, aren't you?"

    "Good call," he laughed. "I graduated last year. I've still got some friends in their last years here, and some as my students. It's pretty strange."

    "I can only imagine," she said.

    "What about you?" he asked. "Where'd you come from?"

    "Um," Ginny said, staring at him. If Will had green eyes he would have been the spitting image of Harry. Damn, where _had_ she gone to school? She couldn't remember--oh! "Hogwarts," she said shakily. "I went to Hogwarts."

    "Really!" he said, looking rather impressed. "You must know the famous Harry Potter, then."

    Ginny glanced up at him, scowling. "Ugh."

    "I'll assume that was a 'yes,'" Will smiled. "Not as wonderful as he's made out to be?"

    "Oh, no," she said, her eyes wide. "He _is_ wonderful! He's a great student, and he's excellent at Quidditch, and he's so very nice, it's just--well, do you ever read the papers?"

    He nodded. "Of course."

    "_The Daily Prophet_?"

    "Yup, as often as I can find the time--I have a friend that reads it, and she lends it to me."

    She grimaced. There was another resemblance to Harry, who only read the papers when Hermione gave them to him. "Remember that 'Harry Potter Dates a Commoner' bit they had going a few months back?"

    Will's eyebrows rose, hidden under the dark, shaggy hair that fell over his forehead. "Ginny, everyone remembers that."

    She sighed unhappily. "It was the first time I'd been in a front page story."

    "You're Ginny _Weasley_? Hell, you're practically a celebrity!"

    "Unfortunately, I'm portrayed as a pretty slutty celebrity," she said, unconsciously reaching up and pressing her bangs flat against her forehead, an odd habit she had picked up from Harry while they had been together.

    Will nodded slowly. "So I take it you're not dating him anymore?"

    "Totally not," she agreed vehemently.

    "Good," he said.

    Ginny stopped in her tracks, confused. "Excuse me?"

    "Boyfriends are terrible things to have in college, you know. Relationships get in the way of studies." He turned and smiled at her. "Here we are: Advanced Charms with Professor Jacobs--me."

    "Oh," she said, feeling a bit embarrassed for reasons she couldn't fathom. "Thanks."

    He graciously held the door open for her and then stepped in, followed by a slew of other students coming in behind them.

    Will, Ginny decided, was just as nice in class as he was outside of it. The class was smaller than she had expected at only about twice the size of the classes at Hogwarts. She found herself feeling strangely comfortable and at home in the new school. She had been scared that everyone in L'Université de Échec was going to be tall, blonde, gorgeous, and frightening beyond all reason--although that was mostly due to the general impression she had gotten from Fleur.

    She was reminded of Neville when, during their review of basic charms, Will called upon a nervous-looking boy to perform a Cushioning Charm and he completely bungled it, turned scarlet, and looked like he was going to cry. Will laughed and told the boy he had done fine, reverted the spell, and then showed the class how it was properly done.

    As her day continued, it kept getting better and better--her Muggle Studies class was a breeze, and her Elvish course was taught by an actual _elf_. She had seen magical creatures before--goblins and hags and the like, but she hadn't seen any humanoid creature so stunningly beautiful in her life.

    Then, suddenly, in her last class, everything came to a screeching halt when she saw a familiar face--one she had hoped not to see again after she had graduated from Hogwarts.

    Trying to be inconspicuous and wishing she didn't have such vibrant red hair, Ginny waited and prayed for the class to end. She sidled out the door, moving as quickly as she could without drawing too much attention to herself, but a hand reached out and grabbed the strap of her bag, yanking her back.

    "Weasley!" Draco said, looking overjoyed. "I didn't know you were going to come _here_."

    "Malfoy," she said, nodding with the most polite attitude she could muster. "What a surprise."

    "You forgot 'pleasant,' Weasley. How's the infamous Potter doing?"

    She scowled at him. "His name is Harry. Anyway, I wouldn't know. We've broken up." She sped up, trying to get away, but he pulled her back again.

    "You mean _he's_ broken up," he grinned. "I'll bet you had no part in it at all. Why do you keep trying to leave?" he asked, pulling her back for a third time and not letting go of her bag. "Scared of me?" he whispered gently.

    Ginny sniffed and turned her face away from him. "I am most certainly _not_ scared of you. I'm not twelve years old anymore, Malfoy."

    "You should be scared," he said, glancing down at her. "Are you scared of Potter?"

    She looked back again. "Yes," she said. "I'm terrified of him."

    "Now, Weasley, why would that be?"

    "Because," she said plainly, backing away from him, "if he ever asked for me to get back together with him, I would find myself compelled to say yes, and that is one of the most disquieting sensations possible. Now, Malfoy, _if_ you will excuse me--"

    "And what of me?" he said, the arrogant smile that aggravated her so much still on his lips. "What if I asked you to go out with me? What would you say then?"

    She turned and stared at him, incredulous. "You're _terrible_!" she snapped, her jaw dropping. "You don't even bother to call me by my first name! I'm just _Weasley_, the _Little Weasel_!"

    Draco shook his head. "Weasley, Weasley, Weasley...you condemn me for my actions, but did you ever stop to think that you've never been civil to me, either?"

    Ginny blinked. "But--I..." She scowled at him. "You know that's not fair."

    "Yes, well, anyway," he sighed. "I've really got to run. Studying to do, you know." He kissed the tip of his finger and tapped her cheek. "See you tomorrow, hm?"

    "I--yes," she said, before she had time to think. He smirked and brushed past her. Disoriented, she turned around to walk the opposite way, not wanting it to seem as if she was following him, and she ran into Will. "Oh, shit," she muttered, slapping her forehead. "I'm sorry."

    He was looking over her shoulder at Draco, who was still striding away. "Who was that?" he asked, poorly hidden displeasure lacing his voice.

    "Malfoy," she said quietly, rubbing her cheek as if to cleanse it. "Draco."

    "What, do you know him?"

    Ginny shrugged, wondering why he was asking her such trivial questions. "You could say that, yes. We went to school together, but he was a year older than I--and, well...Harry's rival, of sorts."

    He smiled. "Competing for you?"

    Ginny almost choked, attempting to change the unladylike noise to laughter at the last moment. "Oh, God no," she said, embarrassed. "We hate each other."

    Will nodded. "Ah," he said knowledgeably.

    "No," she said sternly, "we really do. We've never been able to stand each other, _ever_--"

    "I never said you didn't," Will laughed, patting her amicably on the shoulder.

    Ginny sighed, rubbing the back of her neck uncomfortably. "I'm just a bit paranoid, I suppose. I was hoping--well, to be honest, I was hoping not to see anyone from Hogwarts once I came here, and least of all him." She shook her head. "Anyway."

    Stretching, Will shifted his binders from one arm to the other. "So are you living on campus, or what?"

    "I have a little apartment around the corner," she said. "It's a bit cramped, but I can't afford much else, and I'd really rather live by myself now. I lived with eight other people almost my entire home life, and there were lots of people in the dormitories at school, of course."

    "Eight people!" he choked. "How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

    Ginny laughed. "I've got six brothers and no sisters. It was a bit hectic."

    He nodded. "Well. I'll let you get on home, then. And don't forget to bring your book to class tomorrow. You're going to need it."

    "I'll remember," she said, turning to trudge down the stairs. "I promise!"

~^~^~^~

    _Mental note_, Ginny told herself. _Purchase automobile_. The walk home was a relatively short one, with the building only a block and a half away, but with all her books she was considerably loaded down, and the walk was made much more difficult.

    _Damn_, she sighed inwardly when she reached her door and the knob turned easily in her hand. _I forgot to lock the bloody door_. Stepping into the apartment, she glanced up and screamed.

    Draco looked up from where he had been sifting through the items in her bureau. "Hallo," he said pleasantly.

    "What the hell are you doing in _my_ apartment?" she yelled, dropping her books and bag and slamming the door.

    "Oh, do you live here?" he said indifferently.

    Sitting down on the tiny sofa in front of her bed, she sighed. "Yes, _Draco_, I live here. What are you doing here?"

    "Well, if we're going out to dinner tonight you're going to have to have something to wear. Obviously, however, you've spent all your money on tuition. Do you realize that almost all of your knickers are black?"

    Ginny dropped her face into her hands. "This is _not_ happening."

    Pulling out a nearly transparent shift out of the closet, Draco scrutinized it and held it out to her. "What do you think of this?"

    "That's a _nightgown_," she said, exasperated. And who said I would go out to dinner with you, anyway? I believe the record shows that I loathe you."

    He snorted in an undignified manner that seemed to Ginny to be quite unlike him. "I did," he said. "What, don't you want to celebrate your first school day?"

    "Of course I do," Ginny sighed. "Just not with _you_."

    "You're a moody one," he said, holding out the gauzy nightdress. "Here, put this on."

    "I will not," she said indignantly. "It's hardly appropriate--"

    "It _would_ be if you'd just bloody cooperate and put the damn thing on!" he frowned.

    Growling, Ginny snatched the hanger from him and sulked her way into the lavatory.

    "You could change out here, you know," he said happily, sitting down on the couch and making himself comfortable. "I promise I don't mind."

    "Belt up!" she yelled, slamming the door. A scant while later, Ginny stepped out the door, a heavy towel wrapped around her shoulders to conceal herself, looking mortified. "I am _not_ wearing this in public."

    Draco nodded, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "Of course you are. Come here."

    She complied, and he reached out, tapping the strap that peeked out from under the towel and closing his eyes in concentration.

    "There," he said, looking highly pleased with his handiwork as Ginny opened the towel and stared down at the fluid black fabric that pooled around her feet. "That's better."

    "Wow," she said simply, shaking her head in wonder. "That's--" she broke off, catching herself. What was she thinking? She had almost complimented Draco-bloody-Malfoy, The Insufferable Git. "Thanks," she said instead, feeling that the word was harmless for the most part.

    He smiled, although she couldn't tell if it was a genuine smile or his normal derisive smirk. Cheeky bastard. "You're welcome."

    "So. Where are we going for this dinner you're dragging me to?"

    "Well, if you really don't want to go--I just thought it would be polite of me--"

    "And unexpected, and most disquieting--"

    He continued, ignoring her. "To take you out to dinner. There's this absolutely lovely restaurant right down the street."

    Ginny frowned. "What kind of food?"

    "French, of course, what else would it be? Luckily it doesn't get tiring too quickly, and even when it does they make absolutely wonderful wine, so you can just get smashed and forget about the food." He stood up and began to head for the door. "It makes it much easier."

    She didn't talk on the way to the restaurant; she just listened avidly as he pointed out various buildings and what they were. She had been hoping for some time to explore the city, but she hadn't expected it would be with _Malfoy_.

    When they reached the doors of the restaurant, Ginny stepped away, staring at the monumental structure. "Oh, God," she said, "I can't go in here--I won't fit in--"

    "You'll fit in perfectly," he reassured her, taking her arm and coaxing her inside. "Just trust me for once."

    "For some reason," she sighed unhappily as he pulled her through the doorframe, "that just makes me more nervous."

    Draco guided her through a maze of tables and chairs and aristocratic people to a secluded little booth in a corner, waiting for her to sit down and then following suit, sitting across from her. _Well_, she though, surprised, _perhaps he does have manners after all_.

    A waiter came by a little while later and said something Draco that Ginny couldn't understand, and Draco rattled something right back--in French. There were obviously things about Draco that Ginny hadn't known before.

    After the waiter was out of earshot, Ginny leaned across the table. "What on earth did you just say?" she said, amazed.

    "I ordered food," he said, looking confused. "It was just French." She noticed that he was looking uncomfortable and decided to drop it.

    She was astounded by the way he kept the conversation alive throughout dinner, while she happily shoved whatever the hell he had ordered for her into her mouth. She hadn't realized how hungry she had been until the smell of food had awakened her senses. Ginny had always known he had an acidic, sarcastic personality, but she hadn't ever realized how damned _funny_ he could be sometimes.

    When it was time to go, he reached into the pocket of his robes and spilled some Galleons effortlessly onto the table (she, however, gawked at the amount of money) and stood up, stretching languorously.

    "Coming," Draco asked, raising an eyebrow, "or am I going to have to leave alone?"

    With one last astonished glance to the gold glittering on the table, she stood up and walked quickly to catch up with him--he had already started to head for the door.

    "Well," she said after they were back at her apartment. "Thank you." She turned the doorknob behind her back, and took a step inside.

    A smirk playing on his lips, Draco followed her, tilting his face to plant a kiss on her temple, brushing her hair away from the side of her face and leaning more to whisper in her ear. "What," he said, "don't I get a goodnight kiss?"

    "Absolutely n--" she started, as he tilted her chin up and captured her mouth beneath his. "Um," she said, swallowing, after his lips parted from hers, his face still close. "Maybe just a little one--" and then he was kissing her again, gathering her up in his arms, his lips moving down her jaw line to tease the base of her neck.

    Suddenly his hands felt far closer to her skin than they had been a moment ago, her dress less covering.

    "Oh," he said. "The Transfiguration's worn off. Here, I'll do it again," he added helpfully.

    Unfortunately, before his wand could touch the fabric, there was a small _pop_, and the slow realization came over Ginny that she and Draco were not the only two people in the room any longer.

    She pivoted on her heel and found that she wasn't too surprised to see Harry standing in her room with an expression like he had just tried to eat a lemon.

    Ginny dove frantically for the towel that still hung over the shoulder of the couch and wrapped it around herself, blushing scarlet.

    "Hello," he said to Ginny, although his eyes were on Draco. "It's been a while since I've seen you in that."

    "No, we--he Transfigured it into a dress so we could go--"

    Harry held up a hand. "You don't have to make excuses for me, Gin. Your mum sent me; she wants you to owl her as soon as you can."

    "Well, why didn't she come herself?" she frowned.

    Harry stared at her. "You know why."

    "I suppose so," Ginny said sadly.

    "I'll tell her you're--" he looked to Draco. "Busy. But I certainly won't tell her who you're _with_." He frowned disapprovingly at her and then disappeared with another _pop_.

    Ginny collapsed onto the arm of the couch after he disappeared, clutching the towel around herself. "God, I hate him," she said, and her voice sounded like it was about to break.

    "I'm sorry," Draco said, struggling with the unfamiliar words. "Here, I'll--" he started to say again, touching her shoulder.

    She caught his hand and looked up at him, her eyes bright. "Don't bother with it," she said quietly. "It's not necessary."

    Draco's eyes widened as her meaning dawned on him and she pulled him down by the collar of his robes. "Okay," he said, reminding himself to keep breathing, before he opened his mouth to hers and they tumbled over onto the couch.

~*~*~*~

**OBLIGATORY QUOTE BOX:**  
_"I believe the record shows that I loathe you"_ is Penny Arcade's "I believe the record shows that I loathe the undead." Not implying, of course, that Draco is an extremely sexy zombie. Although he could be. Hahahahahahahahaha. 


	2. In Which Draco's Character is Horribly D...

A/N: What to write here? The next chapter will most likely be the last--I have ides for afterward, but if I start to write those I know that I'll **never** finish. I'll just go with the main inspiration here. Yes, well.  
~clockwisevenus

^*^*^*^

    Ginny woke up feeling sore and tired, but happier than she had been in years. Sure, she had just slept with the man she loathed most out of all people, but--well, who could have predicted that it would one of the most satisfying experiences of her life?

    As she had expected, Draco was no longer there, but he had left a pot of coffee on. _How considerate of him_, she thought wryly, pulling a thin robe out of her closet and slipping it on, hugging it to herself as she sat down, her coffee warm in her hands.

    After checking her clock, she realized that she still had almost two hours to get ready for her classes, and used a quick Summoning Charm to get some parchment and a quill from her bag. She stared at the paper for a few minutes, looking for some sort of inspiration so she could write a letter to her mother or to Hermione, but could find none. Somehow, _Hallo, Mum, I just shagged Draco Malfoy_ did not seem like a good way to start a letter.

    She sighed, staring at the blank paper dejectedly. At least school wasn't going to be boring.

    Over time, Ginny and Draco developed a tentative ship--not exactly a friendship, not a relationship, but they became comfortable in each other's presence, spending almost all their time together. His personality and humour, of course, were no less caustic, and she never let a chance go by if she had an opportunity to aggravate him.

    Still, they ended up in her apartment almost every night, ordering various take-out foods and studying--Draco had a skill in Potions, a subject she had never quite mastered, and she had a matching strength in Charms which came, most likely, from Fred and George, who were known to dabble in Charmwork for their joke shop.

    Days turned quickly into weeks, and the months, and finally, that holiday season came that Ginny had dreaded most--Christmas.

    The letter from her mother came one afternoon while she was sitting on the floor of her apartment with Draco, who was unsuccessfully trying to teach her how to eat with chopsticks.

    "I swear to God," she frowned, frustrated, "this is _impossible_."

    "No," he said calmly for what seemed to be the thousandth time by Ginny's measurement, reaching around her and rearranging her hands, his chin resting on her shoulder.

    "That tickles," she complained, rotating her shoulder.

    Ginny felt his lips form a smile against her neck, and then he was removing the plate and utensils from her hands, along with her robe.

    "Just because you're good in bed--"

    "_Excellent_ in bed," he remedied.

    "Doesn't mean you have to go and show it off at every turn." By then, of course, her robes had already been tossed aside, and he was working on her blouse when there was a fluttering noise at the door, somewhat akin to a knock. "Bloody hell," she growled, buttoning her shirt back up and walking to the door.

    A rather irritated owl was sitting on the ground outside, his feathers fluffed in indignation. Ginny knelt and relieved the owl of its burden, dropping a few Knuts into the leather bag tied between its feet. She shut the door behind her with her foot, leaning against it as she opened the envelope. "Oh, God," she sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead.

    "What is it?" he frowned, turning around on the carpet.

    "Christmas party," she grunted, handing him the paper and watching him expectantly.

    "Dear Gin," he read aloud, "we're having a Christmas party this year for family. Harry's going to be there, of course, so there's no need to bring a date--" He broke off, frowning at the parchment. "Doesn't she know you've broken up?"

    "Of _course_ she does," Ginny sighed, "but that doesn't keep her from trying. So now I _have_ to find a date, and the only man I've been even semi-involved with is you, and God knows I can't take _you_--"

    Draco nodded, not perturbed at all. "Well, what about Will?"

    "That--" she sputtered. "He's my _teacher_!"

    He smiled up at her. "You'll get better grades if you shag him. Besides, he certainly fancies you, and it's not like you'd be going somewhere private." He handed the letter back to her. "It couldn't hurt to ask."

    Ginny nodded reluctantly. "True. I'll see about it after class."

    "Did you know," Draco said quizzically, "that when you stand like that I can see straight up your skirt?"

***

    "Um, Will?" Ginny asked nervously, approaching his desk after most of the other students had left.

    "Problem with the homework?" he asked, glancing up with a smile. "I though you were a Charms genius."

    "No--actually, it was something a bit more personal." She could feel her face heating up. _God. Why did that always happen?_

    Setting down his quill, he leaned back in his chair, his brow creased in consternation. "Ginny, if this is about harassment, you should speak with the headmaster--"

    "No!" she almost yelled, slamming her hands on his desk and leaning down with a scowl. "My family's going to have an absolutely dreadful Christmas Eve party, where my mother will inevitably try to set me up with Harry Potter _again_, so I need a date for protection and I was wondering if you'd like to come as such." The words had spilled out of her mouth very quickly, and she straightened, surprised at herself.

    "All right," he said, nodding slowly as if he was still mulling over the decision. "I'd love to go."

    Ginny smiled gratefully and bobbed her head, turning to go.

    "Why don't you just take that Malfoy character?"

    "Draco?" she said, immediately regretting the use of his first name. She had considered taking him, but... "We don't get along--or, more precisely, our families don't get along. He's practically Harry's antithesis; my brothers all hate him; my dad got into a fist fight with his father, who, subsequently, tried to kill me--"

    Will held up a hand. "So your relationship must put quite a strain on both your families," he said matter-of-factly.

    Ginny flushed. "We're _not_ involved. Besides, he doesn't--he doesn't exactly have a family, since the war, and mine doesn't even know about the fact that we've--well, but that's personal," she said helplessly, wanting to hit herself for what she had almost inadvertently admitted.

    "So, even though you're sleeping with the boy, you're 'not involved' with him?"

    "It's not--" she sighed, toying absentmindedly with a ring on the little finger of her left hand, trying to think of a logical way to explain it. "I mean it's not about love. It's just--sex, plain and simple. There's no affection. It's just what ends up happening every now and then when--well, when we need it to happen." She shrugged, feeling somehow dirtier than when she had entered the room. "I should get to class," she said quietly.

    Will nodded his assent, and she could feel his pensive eyes on her back as she left.

***

    "I blame _you_," Ginny growled, shutting her door and glaring at Draco, who had, as always, arrived before her.

    "Oh?" he said listlessly, leaning against the small, doorless opening that led into the kitchen.

    "Don't 'oh' me, Malfoy," she warned, dropping her bag and striding over, grabbing his shoulders and resisting the strong urge to strangle him then and there. "Now Will thinks I'm some kind of bloody harlot, just because I've slept with _you_."

    Unable to resist a smirk, Draco focused his attentions on trying not to laugh. "Is that so?" he asked. "Did you tell him it was simply because I'm an absolutely wonderful shag?"

    "I felt that it wasn't my place to distribute that information," Ginny said, glaring at him.

    "Too bad," he sighed, shrugging as best he could in her grip. "I'm sure he would have been horrendously jealous. Anyway," he said, kissing her forehead in an attempt to placate her, "I drew you a bath. The water should still be hot."

    She sighed, unable to stay too mad at him. "Thank you," she said grudgingly. "Draco, maybe you could do me one more little favor?" she asked, putting on her best oh-darling-please-me face.

    Draco cocked his head to the side. "What's that?"

    Leaning up, she pressed her mouth against his, moved away before he could react, and licked her lips, her tongue passing over his lower lip as she stared hopefully up at him. "Join me?" she said quietly.

    He blinked. "I thought you were mad at me."

    "It would be the best way to get back into my good graces," she said with a heavy shrug, taking him by the hands and pulling him along with her.

***

    "I swear to bloody _God_, Ginny, you aren't a tramp. You aren't a harlot. You aren't a slut, you aren't a whore--"

    Ginny shook her head, pacing. "You don't sound convincing. Say it again. With bloody conviction, I _need_ to hear it."

    "I've already said it--fine! _You're not a whore_. Look, there's no harm in having a shag every now and then--"

    Collapsing next to Draco on the couch, Ginny hung her head tiredly. "I need one. _Now_. And if Will wasn't going to be here in less than ten minutes, God bloody well knows I would rip your clothes off right now and boff you on the couch."

    "You did that last night," Draco said with a sidelong glance, stretching out and crossing his legs at the ankles. "Be creative. Have me sweep you off your feet into the kitchen--"

    "In the name of all things holy, Draco, shut _up_. I have the worst feeling about tonight--the party's going to go horribly wrong; I know it. I can just tell."

    Draco sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and hugging her close to him. "Don't worry about it. Besides, if anything goes wrong you can Apparate back here and send me an owl." They both jumped at a knock on the door. Ginny gave one last sigh of regret and stood, brushing off the front of her robes. "Good luck," Draco said, giving her a fond smack a little south of her waist, making her squeal.

    "I'll tell you about it tomorrow," she said, looking a little more confident as she stepped out the door. Will glanced in and gave Draco a sour look, and received a wave and a pleasant, self-satisfied grin in return.

    "Nervous?" Will asked as he and Ginny stepped off the Knight Bus.

    "Yes," she responded truthfully. "It's just a five or ten minute walk from here."

    "I can hardly see a thing," he said, his hand groping for hers. "I wish I had thought to bring my wand with me."

    She nodded. "Same here. It's fine, though, it's just even road. We'll be there in a little bit."

    They said nothing to each other for the rest of the walk, Will clinging tightly to Ginny's hand. She let her fingers hang loosely in his, not wanting to seem pretentious.

    "Here we are," she said, gesturing to her lopsided home with a wide smile. "Home. Come on."

    Ginny's mother came out to greet them before they were even on the front steps, positively beaming at Will. She only faltered a bit when Ginny explained that he was her teacher. "Oh, that's lovely, dear, do come in--Harry's been waiting to see you all night." She glanced furtively at Will as she spoke about Harry, probably hoping for some antagonistic reaction.

    Seeing none, Molly gestured them both inside, shoving her daughter along to Harry, who was waiting with open arms and a poorly masked expression of pain in his eyes. He hugged her for a short while, affecting a smile and a laugh as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and extended his other hand to Will, who seemed to notice the tension in the room.

    Slipping out from under Harry's arm, Ginny smiled apologetically at him, and then took Will by the arm and led him into the next room, introducing him to her brothers and father. He seemed to get along wonderfully with Fred and George, so she left him with them, and turned around to find herself face-to-face with Harry. He cast his eyes quickly to the stairs and then back to her, a silent question forming in his eyes. She nodded, and after waiting a moment to make sure everyone else was preoccupied, followed him up the staircase.

    She saw the beam of light shining from under her door and stepped into her old room, the familiar scents pervading her senses. Harry was standing facing away from her, running his hands through his thick hair, a nervous habit he had. Ginny closed the door quietly behind her and he turned around, his lower lip between his teeth as he frowned at her.

    "Ginny," he began, taking a step towards her. He sighed, stopping and reaching up to push his glasses up and rub the bridge of his nose. "This is a bit complicated. I guess--well, I _know_--I'm sorry. I was a bit of a prat that day in your flat, and--I'm going to stop now, while I'm still ahead."

    "Sorry?" she whispered. "You don't need to be sorry. I was just worried; I assumed you thought I was some sort of--of tramp."

    He closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. "That's why I have to be sorry, don't you see? I made you worry--I made you frown. Gin, I wanted to tell you when we--Ginny," he whispered hoarsely, "I loved you. Bollocks to that, I _love_ you."

    "Harry," she said, closing her eyes and wishing herself luck. "I'm sorry."

    He stepped back, his hands on her shoulders and his eyes wide. "You what?"

    "I'm sorry, Harry," she repeated, rubbing her shoulder. "Just because you tell me you love me, you think that I should fall prostrate and beg for you, and--"

    "No," he said frantically, "I don't, I--"

    "Shut up, Harry! I'm not twelve years old anymore! I've been waiting eight years for you to notice me, and when you finally do, I realize that I was wrong. I don't love you. I didn't love you. God, Harry--I could love you, I think. But I can't right now. I'm too busy; I'm too infatuated, too in love with..." she broke off, frowning.

    "In love with...?" he said brokenly.

    "Life," she said, although she knew it wasn't what she had been about to say. "Harry," she said, turning the doorknob, "if you let something go and it comes back to you, it's not yours. It's just...broken. Goodbye."

    She dashed down the stairs, the tears suddenly spilling from her eyes at the realization of what she had just done. Eight years of her life wasted on Harry Potter. Eight years and she couldn't ever tell him she loved him--why hadn't she realized that something was wrong?

    "I'm going home, mum," she said, wiping her eyes as her family stared at her.

    "Ginny!" Harry yelled, clomping down the stairs after her. She turned, and for the single moment before she Apparated home, through her own blurred vision, she could see that he was crying too.

~*~*~*~

**OBLIGATORY QUOTE BOX:**  
_"If you let something go and it comes back to you, it's not yours. It's just...broken"_ is a paraphrased Debbie quote from Grosse Pointe Blank. I can't remember the exact quote even though it's only been a week since I watched it. 


	3. In Which More Stupid Fluff Occurs More D...

A/N: Short chapter, and I'm not sure whether or not the rating should be upped to R or not. Eh-heh. As I've said in other fics, this was written in MWord, which loathes my **very being** and does everything in its power to slight me. It was then hastily coded into HTML, which is **also** not my friend as Auds (Grammar Queen on ff.net) has pointed out to me numerous times. Mmm, review and I'll love you forever. I'll at least like you a bit.

Maybe.  
~clockwisevenus

^*^*^*^

    

_I'm suddenly hopeful whenever you're in sight | I talk about you all day | whisper your name at night | whatever you need | what I would give if you should ask it of me | to make you feel complete..._  
Sugarbomb - Hello

***

_Flat. Now.  
Ginny_

    She scrawled out the letter hastily, tying it to the leg of the post owl and then Apparating home. Draco appeared a few moments later, looking smug, as usual.

    "Honestly, Ginny," he said, appearing suddenly before her. "Couldn't you have--oh, shit," he said, seeing her red-rimmed eyes, tired from crying. "Shit. Shit. Shit--what happened?"

    She didn't reply at first, but crossed the distance between them and let her arms find their way around his waist, crossing over at the small of his back, her forehead buried in the crook of his neck. "I told Harry," she finally said calmly, sounding almost confused, "that I don't love him."

    "But you do," he said, his brow creasing. "You do love him."

    He felt her shake; he could hear her struggling to find words. "No, I don't. Draco," she said, her tone mournful as her arms spasmodically tightened around him, "would you do something for me? If you--if you don't want to, it's fine."

    "Of course," he said, wishing that holding her was enough to alleviate her problems. "I'll--I'll do anything. Just name it."

    Ginny's breath caught in her throat, a grief-stricken moan escaping from her throat as her nails dug sharply into his back. "Make love to me," she said, holding back tears. "I need to feel something--anything but this. I feel like I'm dying," she whispered.

    He resisted the desire to push her away and stare at her, thinking about the weight of her words. _Shag_ was an appropriate term for sex that occurred on the floor, on the couch, in the bloody kitchen, for Christ's sake. _Lovemaking_, however, took place in a _bed_. There were no discrepancies. There was no proper place for a quick shag--it was uncouth, without love, without affection--undeniably _harsh_. Ginny wanted him to be gentle--to look at her, to touch her properly instead of a session of ripping off clothes and insensitive sex that left scratches and bruises.

    Damn. How the hell was he supposed to do that?

    "I should tell you..." he started to say, but she placed her fingertips over his mouth to silence him.

    "No more talking, Draco," she warned him. "Just let me..."

    He swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous as he nodded his consent, letting her slip the robes from his shoulders too slowly and tug his shirt over his head, her pale hands clinging tight to his chest as he did the same to her.

    Why had he never noticed how beautiful she was--so unique? Feminine, but with sharp curves instead of soft, delicately angled in such a way that it seemed she had been designed simply for the purpose of driving him mad; to make his mind spin in a fog that he never wanted to come out of, ever...

    Ginny's fingers traced the path of a scar running from his collarbone over his left shoulder, stopping at a place between his shoulder blades.

    "My father," he said, his voice deeper than he wished it to be as a shudder ran through his body. "Right before Voldemort's fall. I couldn't bring myself to heal it."

    She nodded, understanding the need for some scars. Leaning her head forward, she let her lips pass over it, soothing the affronted spot, paying close attention to the way his chin tipped back with a stifled moan as her mouth neared the base of his throat, his arms clutching at hers as he stumbled back, a mere foot closer to the bed.

    Capturing her lips with his once more, Draco fumbled with the back of her bra, unsteady hands working nervously as she removed his slacks, their breathing coming out in matching short, swift gasps each time their lips separated, his hands moving over the flesh he had never paid attention to in the past. He didn't understand how he could have missed the way she sighed at every touch, the way the sharp bones in her hips ground against his--not painfully, but in an arousing way that made it hard to manage to restrain himself, commanding his hips not to press against hers too roughly.

    The part of his brain that told him how to hold back was retreating with every little noise she made, sliding into a red haze with the way her stomach was pressed against his arousal, making him gasp for breath.

    In his final moment of resolve, he picked her up, hooking an arm behind her knees, carrying her the last few feet to the bed and setting her down, leaning over her as he pressed his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, and then his world was stars.

***

    Ginny sat up, loosely holding the thin sheet over her as she looked about for a blanket. She sighed with the realization that it had been kicked to the opposite side of the room, and she would have to get up and walk across the cold floor to reach it.

    A warm hand reached up, resting against the small of her back. "Cold?" Draco asked.

    She nodded, grateful to see him smiling at her. She was relieved that the carefully built relationship between them hadn't been altered over the past twenty-four hours. Curling up with her head on his chest and an arm draped across his stomach, Ginny wondered how it was that she could feel so comfortable with Draco Malfoy. She still hated him, didn't she? Still, though...he had stayed.

    "You're warm," she commented as his arms wrapped around her, his thumb lazily rubbing her shoulder. "I wouldn't have suspected that."

    "Oh?" he chuckled, a smile curving his mouth.

    She frowned. "What's so funny?"

    "Nothing," Draco said, shaking his head. "It's just--you really don't know me."

    Ginny's scowl deepened. "I know you--I spent six bloody years of school with you--seven, if you count this one."

    "What's my favourite colour?" he asked, a laugh waiting on the tip of his tongue.

    "I--" she faltered. "Green?" she asked hopefully.

    The laugh escaped, his chest shaking as he kissed the top of her head. "Wrong," he said simply. "My favourite colour is red."

    "All right, then," Ginny snapped, feeling silly and argumentative. "What's my--"

    "Yellow," he said, interrupting her, a smug smirk lingering on his lips. "And orange."

    She sat up halfway, turning to stare at him. "Draco," she frowned. "How did you know...?"

    "I didn't," he said, tapping her lower lip. "But you look best in those colours. You're positively radiant in them."

    "Sometimes I think that I love you," she said, looking embarrassed. "And sometimes I just think that you really, really need to be slapped."

    She collapsed on top of him again and closed her eyes.

    "So, what're we going to do today?" he asked. "It's horribly gloomy for Christmas, don't you think?"

    She shrugged nonchalantly. "The first thing I want to do is take a shower, and when I come out I'd like there to be coffee."

    His eyes did an instinctive roll. "How romantic," he said sourly, and she sat up, leaning over the side of the bed, reaching into her dresser. Pulling on a shirt, she slipped out from under the covers, shrugging.

    "You make good coffee," she said. "I can't help being fond of it."

***

    "That looks lovely on you," Draco informed Ginny as she stepped out of the lavatory, furiously towel-drying her hair.

    She sighed. "I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt, Draco."

    He glanced up from his coffee. "The towel's lovely."

    "Argh," she said tactfully, sitting down next to him. "So," she began to distract him from staring at the steam rising from his cup. "What were you going to tell me?"

    "Excuse me?" he asked, setting his coffee down and looking distressed.

    Ginny frowned at him. "Last night," she said. "You just said, 'I should tell you' and I think I told you to shut up."

    Draco stared at her for a few moments, and then shook his head. "It's nothing."

    "Goddammit," she said, slamming her empty cup down. "I hate it when people say that. It just means 'I don't want to tell you, please do keep aggravating me.' It drives me mad. Just tell me, Draco."

    "It's nothing you'd want to hear is what I meant," he clarified, scooting his chair away from the table. "I swear it."

    Ginny leapt at him, taking advantage of his precarious position on the edge of the chair by knocking him to the ground. "Malfoy," she growled, grabbing the collar of his shirt. "I am at my wits' end. I did not have an excellent night, and I'm hoping to start this day off well."

    "You're a bit feisty for having just woken up--"

    "Would you just tell me? I'm so sick of people not telling me things that it's about to--"

    Draco clapped the palm of his hand over her mouth, knowing words wouldn't make her be quiet. "I love you," he said resolutely, and then his expression wavered. "I think. It's kind of hard for me to tell."

    Ginny sat up straight. "You _what_?" she asked, feeling nervous. "I-I'm sorry. I just don't..." she felt her ears flush fretfully. "I can't feel the same."

    "I know," he said, smiling at her. He glanced meaningfully down at her legs. "If you could, maybe...?"

    "Oh!" she said, her blush deepening as she rolled off of him. "Sorry."

    Draco positively beamed at her. "I don't mind. Oh--I almost forgot. I got you a bit of a Christmas present. It's not much--damn, one minute."

    Ginny watched as he walked away and rummaged through his cloak--it had stayed exactly where it had been dropped--finally pulling out a black box. He tossed it to her, staying seated on the ground.

    "Wow," Ginny said, her eyes wide, staring at the amber pendant. "Just--wow."

    "That's Ginny," he said with pride, "always the eloquent one. Come here," he said, patting the floor in front of him.

    "I haven't bought you anything," she said in sudden awareness, sounding appalled as she agreeably sat down. 

    Draco shook his head. "I didn't expect you to," he said, waiting for her to hold up her hair, fastening the chain behind her neck.

    Ginny sighed happily, leaning back into him, her eyes closing of their own volition. "Draco," she said contentedly, "I lied."

^*^*^*^

A/N: Credits go to Sugarbomb, a local band which rocks my socks off. I know I said it earlier, but...mmm. I love that song. And also Audrey (Grammar Queen, as I said in the first A/N as well) who is a great help in HP fanfiction that involves Draco because she freaks when anything evil is done to him and also when he is thrown wildly out of character, which I tend to do.

I've gone back to fix these chapters, so if you see anything out of sorts (I actually put "no" for "know" once, I'm an idiot) tell me.

**OBLIGATORY QUOTE BOX:**  
Ginny's _"Make love to me"_ and _"I need to feel something"_ are semi-borrowed from some of Laura's lines in High Fidelity (another John Cusack movie, hah). 


	4. Much mmfngrgnsing And More Poor Characte...

A/N: Ahhh. Chapter, finally. Quickly coded. Notify me of errors. Need sleep now. As Ginny would say, _mmfngrgns_. Ahem. For some reason the HTML is getting screwed up on this. I've checked and rechecked it and there is NOTHING WRONG. FF.net hates me.  
~clockwisevenus

^*^*^*^

    "Nng," Ginny said, pulling a pillow over her head at the invasive sound of the knock on the door. When it decided to continue, she reluctantly slid out of bed and threw a robe around her shoulders. She opened the door with a yawn, rubbing the back of her neck. "What?" she asked, peeking out.

    "Happy Christmas!" George yelled exultantly.

    "Belated, of course," Fred said with a decisive nod.

    Draco grumbled a bit, rolling over in his sleep. Ginny screamed and slammed the door, rushing over to the bed. "Up!" she hissed, shaking him awake. "Up! You've got to leave--"

    "What?" he asked, sitting up and looking about. "Are you mad?"

    "My brothers are here," she said, pulling him onto his feet and throwing clothes at him. "Take this, and this, and--God, Apparate and I'll owl you when everything's clear--"

    He nodded frantically, grasping the situation. After giving her a quick kiss he closed his eyes and disappeared with a small _pop_.

    Ginny took a deep breath and opened the door again, faced by a very confused Fred and George.

    "Um," George said. "Who was that?"

    "I'm not sure," Ginny said, her cheeks flushing nervously as she tried to keep from wringing her hands. "Some French bloke--didn't speak any English."

    Fred stared at her. "So you just shacked up with him for the night, did you?"

    Ginny blinked. "Er, yes? Happy late Christmas--um, come in."

    "Well," Fred said, "we've got absolutely smashing news for you. Ron and Hermione are coming to wish you a Happy Christmas too--don't know when they'll be here--Harry said he didn't want to come, you know." He said the last bit a little uneasily. "There are a few people from school that are going to pop by as well."

    "You've got food, haven't you?" George asked, heading for her fridge.

    "I've got loads of leftover take-out," Ginny supplied, succumbing to the urge to wring her hands.

    George grinned at the contents of her refrigerator. "And loads of booze. Excellent!"

    "Have I?" she asked, feeling a bit weak in the knees. There were going to be people--in _her_ flat?

    Then the doorbell was ringing and people were flooding in and she was swept away in a wave of people she didn't even know. Squeezing through the people, Ginny made her way to the door, stumbling outside and gasping for breath.

    "All right there?" Hermione said sympathetically, catching the younger girl and setting her on her feet. "How are you holding up?"

    "Gah!" Ginny yelled, grasping at Hermione's robes. "Help! There are too many people, and it's past Christmas already, and--they haven't even brought me _presents_," she realized abruptly, feeling suddenly irritated.

    Hermione smiled, holding out a basket wrapped in pink, sparkling cellophane. "I brought you some Muggle chocolates. I figured you'd need it. Actually," she admitted, turning a bit pink, "Ron figured you'd need a little picker-upper. I just came up with the chocolate bit." She gestured to Ginny's brother, who was standing with his thumbs hooked in the loops of his robes. He looked a bit embarrassed.

    "Happy late Christmas," he said. "How are you? I mean, after the Christmas party disaster," he specified unhelpfully.

    "I was lovely until just a few minutes ago," she sighed. "I wasn't exactly prepared for a Christmas party."

    "How so?" Hermione asked. "I mean, other than the obvious Harry _thing_."

    Ginny poked Ron gently in the ribs. "Ronnie, could you be an excellent big brother and go inside? 'Mione and I've got a little girl talk to attend to."

    He sighed. "I suppose. I'll try to keep them from destroying your flat."

    "Hermione," Ginny said after Ron had shut the door behind him, "what would you say if I had a boyfriend?"

    "I'd tell you that it's excellent and that I'm absolutely thrilled for you," Hermione smiled. "Have you got one? And when are you going to break the news to Harry?"

    Ginny shook her head, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. "That's the very thing--he already knows. Sort of--I mean, he's seen us together. A while ago--before the Christmas party at home."

    Hermione swayed on her feet. "But you can't have known him long, you just moved here recently..." She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb. "This is so terribly confusing that it makes me feel a bit ill."

    "What I'm about to tell you is probably going to make you feel more ill," Ginny said, swallowing nervously, her throat constricting with nerves. "But you can't tell anyone--_especially_ Ron, do you understand?" At Hermione's wary nod, she continued, leaning forward and speaking in a soft voice, although there was no one else around. "It's Draco."

    There was a short pause. Hermione's mouth twisted up briefly and then went straight again, a short laugh escaping her lips before she turned serious again. "You're kidding. Draco Malfoy? Horrible rat-faced Draco Malfoy?"

    "He's not rat-faced!" Ginny protested indignantly. "Look, I--oh, here," she said, reaching into her pocket. "I've even got a picture. He brought over this cute little camera the other day and--here."

    Hermione took the photograph from Ginny's fingers, watching a miniature and rather shirtless (noticeable by his bare shoulders) version of Draco kiss an equally bare-shouldered and tiny Ginny on the cheek. She looked to be almost tearful with laughter until he pulled her mouth up to meet his and then broke away briefly to waggle his eyebrows suggestively at the viewer and then roll them both out of the frame for some privacy.

    "See?" Ginny said, pointing. "He's simply gorgeous. And he's got lovely eyes, don't you think?"

    "That's impossible," Hermione goggled. "He--Gin, he's not allowed to be that attractive. You know that, don't you? He's supposed to be horrid and disgusting with one of those upturned noses and a terribly high forehead--oh, God! And what were you doing after this picture was taken, anyway?"

    Ginny flushed. "You can't expect us to hang about in the picture all day, can you?" She sniffed to cover her embarrassment. "Voyeur."

    "I am not!" Hermione laughed, shoving the photograph back at her.

    Someone leaned out of the doorway, although Hermione and Ginny couldn't tell who it was because of the lampshade hanging over his eyes. "H'py Chrism's," he grunted, before slamming the door again.

    Ginny sighed. "Sometimes I really hate the twins."

***

    "How was the surprise party?" Draco asked, shutting the door behind him.

    "Terrible," Ginny sighed, leaning haphazardly back in her chair and sloshing a wine glass around. She groaned. "Look at all this cake. I have to eat all the cake. Terrible," she repeated, "just terrible. That's a lovely purse," she added, pointing to the plastic bags from an Italian restaurant that were hanging over his arm.

    "You're completely smashed," he said, opening the refrigerator and throwing the food in.

    She groaned again, poking at a huge chocolate cake in front of her. "Mahogany," she said decisively. "That's what the lady at the shop called it. I'd call it more of a...what's the word?"

    "Chocolate?" he supplied, sitting down across the table from her.

    "That's it. Chocolate. Not mahogany at all. Will came by after everyone else left," she proclaimed sorrowfully. "Very, very sad. It was sad."

    Draco tried not to laugh. "What'd he do?"

    "Kissed me," she moaned. "I think he called me a tramp. Not so sure now, feel very groggy. Horrible colour, mahogany, it's absolutely dreadful. Do you know," she said, looking up at him as if making a divine revelation, "if I were a colour, I would kick mahogany's arse."

    With that profound statement, she fainted into her cake.

***

    "Where's my headache?" Ginny said confusedly, sitting up in bed. "And where the hell are my clothes? Draco, you didn't--"

    He glared at her from the side of the bed. "Of course not--I'm fully clothed, if you hadn't notice, and well-trimmed, at that. Even I'm not vile enough to do that. I gave you a bath to get the icing out of your hair. I presumed you'd rather not have sopping wet clothes." He smiled benignly. "Was I incorrect in that assumption?"

    "Er, no," she said, embarrassed. "Sorry," she added as a lame afterthought.

    Draco shrugged it off. "I wouldn't worry about it--" he began.

    "But you don't worry about anything," she frowned. "You always say you wouldn't worry and it's true because you don't."

    "I worry about things."

    "What things?"

    "Things."

    Ginny made a general grumble of displeasure that sounded somewhat like "mmfngrgns."

    "Indubitably," he agreed. "In response to your first question, it was just a spell." Draco shrugged. "Now that you're sober, care to tell me what happened with Will?"

    "Mmfngrgns," Ginny said, curling up against his chest, her eyes sliding shut.

    "You said that already," he admonished her.

    She sighed. "He knocked on the door and I let him in, and almost before I had closed the door he had kissed me. I was surprised, of course, and I guess I shoved him away. I asked him what the hell he thought he was doing--probably not the nicest thing in the situation, but--"

    "I think it was perfectly appropriate," Draco said, kicking off his shoes and sliding under the covers next to her, a yawn escaping his lips.

    Ginny gave a slight shrug, scooting closer to him. "Then he said, 'I just wanted to see if you'd kiss anyone that says he loves you,' and I sort of stared at him, and he got this angry look on his face and asked me 'how many times.' I was _very_ confused by that point and asked him what he meant by that, and he just seemed very hacked off and pushed past me out the door. End."

    "Odd," he said noncommittally. "How did you end up dating Potter?"

    "Pardon?"

    "I've just been wondering for a while, and it's the best way to change the subject, as Potter is a rather universal subject."

    "Er," Ginny said. "The summer before my sixth year, he and Ron had just gotten back from some Quidditch match and Ron was doing last-minute schoolwork--he's terrible about things like that. Harry and I were sitting on the sofa downstairs and he had his Omnioculars--you know, the ones that you get--"

    "I know."

    She flushed. "Um. And we were looking at them, and I thought my heart was about to explode because I was in such close proximity to him, and he looked at me a bit sideways and--don't laugh," she said, looking up at him suddenly.

    Draco arched an eyebrow at her. "Why would I laugh?"

    "It's a bit silly, now that I look back on it. You promise not to laugh?"

    "I'm more likely to become bitter and horrible for the rest of my life."

    "Good. Anyway, Harry asked if I had ever been to a movie, like Muggles go to, and I told him no--my dad's insane about Muggle things but Mum's never allowed him to go to a place like that because he'd probably wreak havoc and be totally oblivious to it. He gave me this funny look--not like a 'what's wrong with you' look but a sort of, 'damn' one--and he said, 'Well, at a movie, it's customary for the boy to put his arm around the girl's shoulders,' and he, um, did."

    "Put his arm around your shoulders?"

    "Yes. And I thought he was just kidding around, so I--the Omnioculars were practically forgotten at this point--said, 'Oh, and then I'm supposed to lean my head on your shoulder, right?' And I did, and then he cleared his throat and swallowed, and said, 'And this is the part where I'm supposed to kiss you.'

    "I looked up and he was staring straight ahead like he was afraid to look at me, and his face was this bright shade of red. I didn't know what to say, so I mumbled God knows what, and he looked down and I was looking up and it was kind of...perfect. And it was just understood after that. Sorry," she said, turning rather pink. "That was a bit long. How about you? I mean--how many girlfriends have you had?"

    Draco stared at her and then burst into laughter. "You must be joking."

    "What's so funny about it?" she asked indignantly, propping herself up on an elbow.

    "I haven't had any." He shook his head. "That's not true. There have been girls that I've dated, but nobody that I was so deeply involved with that I would call her a girlfriend. Except you, that is, and you already know how we got together."

    "Could you tell it anyway? I do _so_ love the story."

    He smiled, crooking his pointer finger, and tilted her chin up. "I asked for a goodnight kiss..."

^*^*^*^

**OBLIGATORY QUOTE BOX**: _"If I were a colour, I'd kick mahogany's arse"_ is something a dear friend of mine said at lunch. "Arse," of course, was "ass." Humour me. 


	5. Thank God It's Finally Over or The Ultim...

A/N: A very short chapter, but honestly, I'm suffering from a severe case of writer's block. I feel silly saying that because I don't think I qualify as a "writer" exactly, more of an "imitator" or something like that. Even more hastily coded than is usual. And bleh, I couldn't get this chapter right. I hate it. Draco is horrible, Ginny does things inexplicably, and Will has somehow drifted into nonexistence because I didn't know what to do with him. [Insert dejected sigh here, please.]

It's sad, really. If anyone thinks that something else should have been done (which it should have, I just can't figure out _what_), review and suggest something and I'll probably revise this chapter, as any ideas are better than none.

Yes, well. Happy Thanksgiving to you all, and review!  
~clockwisevenus

I always say "I love you" | When I mean "turn out the light" | And I say "let's run away" | When I just mean "stay the night" | But the words you want to hear | You will never hear from me | I'll never say "happy anniversary" | I'll never stay to say "happy anniversary" | So I think I need a new heart | Just for you | I think I need a new heart  
The Magnetic Fields - I Think I Need a New Heart

^*^*^*^

    Harry yawned. He was starting to see why Snape had always been so grouchy during class. Even though he was only substituting for Professor Flitwick, Harry was mentally exhausted, and his next class was a group of Second Years, who always promised to be riotous during class. He hadn't been that disruptive when he was in his Second Year, had he? Sure, he and Ron had stirred up a ruckus in McGonagall's every now and then, and they had never paid attention in Divination, and there was that one time when he cast a Giggling Charm on Malfoy...

    He heard approaching footsteps and sat up straight in his chair, aware that his break period was coming to a close. He quickly picked up a book and pretended to be reading it, not wanting any of his temporary students to think that he spent his free time dozing off and reminiscing about his own days at Hogwarts.

    "Your book's upside-down," a familiar voice stated from the doorway, sounding somewhat bemused, but apprehensive as well.

    "Ah," he said, setting it down and looking nervously at Ginny, who was leaning with feigned nonchalance against the door, her hand gripped so tightly around the door-handle that her knuckles were white. "So it is." He coughed. "Hello."

    Ginny took a deep breath before stepping further into the room. "Hi." Then she continued without any regard for the consequences. "Have you talked to Draco?"

    "I'm not supposed to tell you," he said honestly.

    "He's been acting very odd lately," she said persistently. "He's always nervous and he doesn't talk to me as much..."

    "It's just boy stuff, Gin," Harry shrugged.

    She took another step toward Harry, her fists clenching nervously at her sides. "So it hasn't got anything to do with me?"

    He hesitated, looking very sad for a moment before he concealed his emotions again and continued. "Well...it has to do with you, and it has to do with me, and it has to do with Malfoy. But I don't think that he'd like it if I told you."

    Then she realized that she had been completely wrong about Draco and that he was exactly like everybody else.

    "Thank you," she said, backing away and out the door. "I think that I'm going to kill him." Then she pivoted on her heel and stalked away, the retreating footsteps moving much more quickly than they had when they had been approaching.

    For a moment, Harry considered stopping her. Then he remembered that he hated Malfoy and didn't want to help him in any way. Ginny being assuming and hacked off at him for something he didn't do was a good thing.

    For Harry, anyway.

***

    "Ginny?" Draco asked, entering her flat only to find that it had been thrown into utter chaos. "What the hell are you doing? Listen," he corrected himself, "there's something I've been meaning to tell--or," he paused. "There's something I've been meaning to ask--"

    "Don't even start!" she screeched, throwing a pillow at him. "It makes me sick," she said, rushing about and throwing things into a duffel bag. "I'm ignored for five years, maybe more--second choice to Harry after Hermione left him because she had feelings for Ron that he's too stupid to figure out--had you forgotten about that?

    "Then when I finally get what I want and think everything's going to be fine, Harry dumps me on a boyish whim, and while I try to forget him, everyone I care about is trying to make me remember! Everyone is still up and waiting for me to get married to bloody Harry, just like everyone's waiting for Ron to propose to Hermione.

    "After that I travel here to get away from it all and find you, looking like some sort of perfect porcelain angel that's come down from heaven just for me, somehow strangely transformed into something with a somewhat human personality, and for a while acting like you really care about me--and do you know, you had me convinced for some time that you did care--but I've discovered that you're no different than my mum and all six of my brothers and all the friends I've ever thought I've had, waiting for me to marry Harry Potter.

    "And do you know what?" she said, by now on the verge of tears as she unfastened the necklace he had given her and dropped it into his open hand. "If it'll make everyone shut up and leave me the bloody hell alone, I might as well do it. Hell," she whispered, her voice tremulous as her tongue tripped over her words, "nobody else is asking me, and I'll only live once."

    Then she disappeared, and Draco was left standing with no clue what the hell she had been going on about. He didn't want her to marry Potter. He wanted her to marry him.

    And bloody hell, now he had to go and keep her from doing something rash.

***

    An hour and a half later, Ginny was sighing, her knees pulled up to her chest; drawing idly in the dust on the path in front of the steps she was sitting on.

    She had seen Draco walking down the path from afar, looking horribly out of place among the dust and the grass and the open country in his pristine black robes, but she had chosen not to say anything until he had said something to her. She was going to do this properly. "Nice house," he commented, approaching and looking up at the Burrow as if he was making an inspection.

    "Shut up," she said, not looking up. "I'm angry with you. You're also late."

    He smiled. "Technically, I should be the one angry with you, what with the going on about me wanting you to marry Potter--which is absurd, by the way--and anyway, I had to find out where you lived. Then I had to Apparate to Diagon Alley and take the Knight Bus. It took a while for them to get here, so I threatened to Hex the conductor."

    "You didn't," she said blandly, knowing that he did.

    "Well, I ended up not having to follow through. I thought your plan was to rush home and get Potter to marry you before I got here. I see you're still unwed."

    Ginny frowned up at him. "He wasn't home," she said tersely.

    "Ah," he said equably, and reached into his pocket to pull out the necklace that she had returned. "You might be wanting this back."

    She sighed and held her hands out, but along with the pendant and chain fell another object. Picking it up to examine it, she realized that it was a ring. Thin and perfect, it glinted in the light. "What's this for?" she asked.

    Draco merely shoved his hands into his pockets and looked terribly abashed. If Draco had been the type to blush, he would have been beet red. "You," he said, sitting down next to her.

    "I'm not sure I understand--"

    "Bloody hell, Ginny, do you want to marry me or not?"

    She turned to look at him, examining his expression. He feigned anger, of course, but there was a veiled anxiety in the grey of his eyes. "You're not very good at this, are you?" she asked, wanting to deliver one more barb before she relented.

    He smiled, recognizing the humour behind her annoyed tone. "It's my first time, so you'll have to excuse me."

    "Draco," Ginny said, collapsing dramatically in his arms, "you do realize that my parents are going to kill me when I marry you. And Ron's going to kill _you_."

    "Why won't he kill you?"

    Ginny giggled, squeezing him around his waist. "He'll have had locked me up in St. Mungo's Ward for the Mentally Ill by then."

    There was a drawn out pause. "So that's a yes, then?"

    She smiled, closing her eyes and relaxing into him. "I suppose so."

    "Mmm," he said, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles, one of his hands finding its way around her waist while the other patted her hair. "Then I think I can live with the death threats from your parents."

    "Yeah," she agreed. "Me too."

^*^*^*^

THE OBLIGATORY QUOTE BOX IS EMPTY. BE SAD. 


End file.
